


Nine plus One

by avpke



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Abuse, Family, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Orcs, Original Character(s), Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-13
Updated: 2013-08-13
Packaged: 2017-12-23 09:32:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/924758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avpke/pseuds/avpke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Nine were Sauron's greatest, strongest and deadliest servants. They were able to kill simply by causing fear within their enemies, wielding their weapons with ease, and could not be killed. But… What are these dark creatures doing in their free time? And what if the Witch King had a 5 year old daughter? Read and find out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Travel to the Unknown

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N: This will be a collection of one-shots, which I will write along the way if I feel like it. It will always count as ‘completed’ because of this. Each one-shot will have a different plot, but the characters will be the same. It is based on a roleplay on the forum here, where the Witch King had a daughter, and I always wondered how they could manage to care for her while she was a child… Seeing they are Nazgul.**
> 
>  
> 
> **Warning: Some things mentioned here will not match the books and/or the movies. The names of the Nazgul were taken from a roleplaying game, but the bio doesn’t match them. They were taken from the roleplay between many fellow users. Main characters will be: Jaina (daughter), Er-Murazor, Dwar, Adunaphel, Hoarmurath.**

_Time setting: Third age, before the war for the ring.  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to their respective owners. I don’t own LotR. The plot of this story however is mine._

1.: Travel to the unknown

There was still peace through the lands of Middle-Earth. The villages, strongholds all bloomed with life, the forests were green, the prey was many and the waters flowed crystal clear through the valleys. You could almost see the sun smiling down at the people. Humans, elves, dwarves alike. Though, some knew the peace only lasts that long… until you look towards Mordor… where the shadows started to come to life, wanting to engulf the world once more. Something started to stir. It was faint, barely visible, but something started to rise… A foul stench of orcs, trolls and dark creatures, the smell of death and a breeze of terror. The dark army started to rebuild their lost homes, strongholds were pulled up, walls erected, and slowly, but surely, they started to seep into the greens of the world beyond the bounds of the darkness.

Sauron returned.

There was no doubt in his allies and servants. Their Dark Lord stood once more, preparing for a new, fresh start. A new chance presents itself to conquer what was rightfully his. All Middle-Earth shall fall before him on their knees and bow their head to his greatness. He stirred in the depths of his hiding, feeling the power that would help him. The power that would raise him to full potential… His ring. The only ring. The One Ring.

He still needed to locate it; it was still slumbering somewhere far away… Yet awakening slowly, calling for him, wanting to return to its Master. However, he didn’t only hear the call of his artifact, but the greeting of his Nine servants, welcoming him back, and wanting to hear his command. They were all scattered through the land, maintaining the lands of their interest, wide apart. It is time to gather… Time to return to Minas Morgul.

And so, the Nine Nazgul mounted their black horses, and rode off to their old stronghold, snapping the reins to hurry and not let the Lord wait. Halfway to their destination, they met up. All Nine riding east together. The Eight following their Lord, the Witch King. Er-Murazor. The most powerful and fearless Ringwraith among them, who was chosen to lead them by Sauron himself, and voted as leader among themselves.

After a while, their fast ride became a slow walk. They slowed down their horses and followed the road leading to Minas Morgul, lined by thick foliage and massive trees. After a great silence, silent murmurs and hisses could be heard, as they were starting to converse among themselves, leaning slightly closer to each other, gesturing with their hands, mostly talking about the upcoming duties, the war, the training of troops… and the unexpected load on the Witch King’s horse. A little five years old girl with blond hair and blue eyes sat in the saddle of the king in front of him, clutching her seat tightly, her curious eyes darting from one tree to another. It wasn’t that they didn’t know about his daughter, just that they were surprised he considered taking her with him. Well, some of them. A few knew about it, but decided to keep silent. Er-Murazor however didn’t pay them any heed, but kept his invisible gaze on the road ahead, occasionally glancing down to see if his daughter was seated safely. The only one who conversed with him was Adunaphel, with whom he had been maintaining the northern lands, herding the people according how their Lord would want them to. And of course he was always there to take care of the little girl when he went out, and his daughter was quite fond of her gentle uncle. The others seemed to be indifferent towards her, or even looked at her as if she was a burden, or as a threat to a possible future title. After all, if he happened to fall, she shall take his place as the new Lord of the Nazgul, which some of the wraiths were hoping to get for themselves. They weren’t too keen to have a half-Nazgul as their leader. Once he heard one of them say these exact words, the Witch King sighed silently, keeping his horse on course.

No matter how many times and when he thought of his wife, he was always indifferent. There were no feelings towards her, after all he was unable to feel them, but she seemed to feel some kind of… affection towards him. Her self-sacrifice and fierce attitude caught his attention however, and considered her as his mate or wife, after she proved herself to him. She was a quite determined human woman, who always watched his every move and took all his wishes as her command. She was a witch herself, so there were common topics to talk about. How they managed to create their child while he was a wraith, was a mystery to him though. Just like why she died just a year ago, leaving him and his brethren to take care of the little girl on their own. Their daughter inherited most of his features, like his eyes and hair as a human, also dark blood seeped through her veins, while her curious and emotional behavior came from her mother. Just like her mortality, which also made the others question his decision of making her his sole heir. The only people who seemed to support his idea were Adunaphel, Ren and Uvatha, while Dwar, Hoarmurath and Ji Indur were outright furious. Khamul and Akhorahil were silent about it.

His thoughts were rudely interrupted when he felt tugs on his dark robe and looked around sharply, expecting one of the Nazguls wanting to snap him out of it so they can talk. His anger rose slightly and gripped the reins tighter. But when he turned to either side, he couldn’t find anyone. Instead, he felt the tug again from his front and looked down, seeing his daughter’s big blue eyes look up at him, and one of her small hands holding the fabric of his clothing tightly, wanting to gain his attention. He didn’t say a word, just stared at her, waiting for her to talk, his momentary rage vanishing as soon as it came.

She kept her gaze on him for a little while longer, then smiled at him, some kind of emotion shining in her eyes. But as usual, he wasn’t too good in guessing which it could be. “Are we there yet?” Her question went unanswered by everyone but her father, as he looked ahead, concentrating on the road.  
“No.” Came the curt and short reply of the dark king, making sure to keep the pace of his horse even, his mind was set on their destination once again, but still keeping an ear open for the conversations going on behind him.

“And where are we going?” The girl asked, tilting her head to the side, looking up into her father’s dark hood, never releasing her grip on his clothes. She didn’t know where they were headed; he only told her they are going somewhere important. And if it was important, then it surely will be fun.

“Minas Morgul.” Was all the king said, not looking at her, his tone monotone, completely void of any emotion. Something the girl got used to since her birth.

“And what is that?” She asked, blinking her curious eyes, raising a small eyebrow, eagerly waiting for his reply. She loved visiting new places, and this place sounded quite nice but weird at the same time.

This question made the leader think for a moment. He could tell her it was their great stronghold, one of the centers of their operation, the usual base of their kind from where they govern the troops. But he wasn’t sure if she would understand, seeing she was only five. He didn’t want to talk needlessly. Instead, he turned his hooded head to his right, where Adunpahel rode, his attention on the trees next to him. The assassin Nazgul always seemed to know how much to say to her, how to handle her when she was upset, and how to entertain her in certain circumstances because of the journals he kept from his own mortal life. And so it was time he helped him out once more. The Nazgul surely heard the question, but refused to answer, maybe wanting to see what the dark leader said, so the king made a slight hissing sound to make him turn and give all his attention to his daughter.

The one in question turned sharply at the call and looked at his leader, then once he nodded towards the little girl, he cleared his throat. “Ah… Well…Jaina… It is a very crowded but important place. We have been called there not long ago.” He started in a whisper, not wanting to disturb the silence that suddenly fell upon the traveling group. “Orcs and trolls everywhere, large buildings… You will need to be careful there.” Adunaphel refused to say more, knowing from experience that it would… frighten her or urge her to do something stupid thinking of adventure.

This wasn’t really enough to answer her question, but she shrugged, thinking the other part might be too boring anyway, turning back around, she released her grip on her father’s robe. She has seen orcs and the like before. They weren’t that nice to her and were smelly. She didn’t know why they go there now… Why can’t they stay in the north, where there were only humans and just a few orcs… 

The next few minutes passed in complete silence. Everyone rode either looking at the ground or the trees, some of them even took their time to start cleaning their robes for the first time in a few hundred years, trying to sweep off some odd dirt, which could be mud or very old dried blood, and a few picked leaves and blossoms from the manes of their horses.

“Are we there yet?” The little girl’s –who we know now as Jaina- question cut through the silence like a sharp knife, making some of the wraiths tense up, while others just sighed heavily, clearly annoyed at the repeated question from just a few minutes ago.

“No.” The quick reply came from her father again, who tightened his grip on the reins and sent a warning aura behind, just to make sure the others keep their patience in check. If they behave like this now, what will happen once they have to deal with a dozen of orcs and trolls? There were a few shifts behind him as his brethren made themselves comfortable on their horses, feeling the warning and not wanting to anger their leader, they sat in silence in their saddles once more.

Just a few more minutes later, Jaina sighed, leaning forward in the saddle just for a few moments, before leaning back once again against her father, watching the road with boredom. “Father…?” She asked, this time not looking up at him, her tone was a give-away she was rather bored, which of course the king completely missed, seeing he cannot really tell mortal emotions apart.

“No… We are not there yet.” Came the firm reply from somewhere behind Er-Murazor, from the tone of voice and half-whisper he guessed it was Hoarmurath, who finally snapped and informed her of their current state of distance from their destination –as the Witch King would put it.

In return the little girl let out a heavy sigh, looking around herself, just to try and find something to do. There was really nothing much to play with. She already pretended she was the one leading the horse, and she already played with her father’s clothing and the horse’s mane. The way was too long and boring for her taste. Then she realized something. “Father…”  
At this, almost all Nazgul let out a heavy and annoyed sigh, shifting in their own saddle, looking at each other and started murmuring, which caused the Witch King to turn his head and let out a silencing hiss. He couldn’t believe how intolerant the others behaved towards his daughter. Yet again, he refused to say a word; instead he waited for her to speak again, watching the road ahead.

After a short silence, Jaina decided to speak up and continue her sentence. “…I am hungry…” Her tone was basically begging, and she made sure her father saw the look on her face. Er-Murazor guessed she was requesting food, and not just informing him about her current feelings. This was something he learned along the way, when she wouldn’t stop repeating this sentence until she was fed. Same happened when she said she was ‘thirsty’. Then she needed something to drink. He never understood why mortals don’t simply say what they need. They always just say what they feel, something he had trouble guessing the meaning of.

“This is what we need….” Came the gruff voice of Hoarmurath from somewhere behind him once more, riding his own black horse closer to the Witch King’s. “Why did you even bring her with you? Don’t tell me we have to stop and hunt something… We are already late. Plus I know fully well we didn’t slow down because the horses became tired, but because this… thing couldn’t take the speed for too long.” He commented angrily. The mage might be a loyal follower of his, but he showed his displeasure towards his daughter on the very first day they met. And he also knew why. The Nazgul wanted the position of Lord after his fall, and he took great care to show more authority in front of everyone. So, he didn’t quite know when to hold his mouth frequently. Like now.

In return, Er-Murazor, as usual didn’t yell back or shout, that was not his way, but kept his gaze forward on the road. The silence itself was unbearable and the tension thick in the air. The furious Nazgul was still riding beside him, his hooded head turned towards him, then lowered to Jaina, who just blinked back at her harsh uncle, but neither said a word. After half a minute of momentary peace, the Witch King turned his head towards the mage. “I have seen some blue fruit we passed a few minutes ago. They look edible.”

Silence…

Complete and utter silence engulfed the forest, only the hooves of their horses pounding on the ground could be heard, as the leader and the mage locked eyes, having a quite long staring contest. The others didn’t dare to talk or whisper, just looked at the two dominant Nazgul as they stared each other down. Even Adunaphel slowed his horse down; just to make sure he was way behind them… hiding behind the sturdier Dwar. Just in case a fight breaks out, he didn’t want to be in the line of any blasts, curses or hits. However, he was more than sure his warrior Brother can take quite a few hits with his armor. It seemed like hours, but only a few minutes passed, and Hoarmurath broke their eye contact, snorted, then pulled on the reins of his horse, making it turn, and started galloping in the opposite direction they were heading, going back to the fruits the leader was talking about, without a word. He wasn’t even out of ear-shot and the remaining Seven lesser Ringwraiths started to murmur and hiss among themselves, only to be silenced by their leader.

The ride was quiet again. Then the dark beings started to talk among themselves once more, mostly about Minas Morgul and the upcoming domination of Middle Earth, while others started to complain about having to train the army. Orcs and trolls weren’t that easy to handle. They were so dumb and hard to teach sometimes, but if they wanted them to be at least somewhat deadly, they, as Sauron’s most fearless servants, will have to take up preparing them. Not an easy task, but not impossible to complete. Ren and Ji Indur already volunteered for the first few dozen troops, the next will be trained by Dwar and Uvatha, while Adunaphel snatches the allies, Khamul guards the Easterling’s loyalty, and Hoarmurath trains the mages. Er-Murazor will be the one who controls their actions and holds contact to their Dark Lord.

The conversation ended abruptly when the loud pounding of hooves was heard from behind them. Some did look back, while most didn’t need to turn to know who completed the rather… humiliating task for their leader. The mage rode up to the king’s horse, holding some blue berries in one hand with such a force, that they started to squish in his hard gauntlet, their blue juice dripping down his metal glove to the floor. The Nazgul didn’t say a word, but held out the fruits to the little girl sitting in front of the lord, not at all amused and surely angry. Jaina eagerly took them, and as soon as they landed in her lap she started munching on them, chewing quickly and hungrily. The mage pulled back his hand, watching her with a mix of disgust and anger, shaking his hand to try and get rid of that blue liquid, then slowed his horse so he was riding next to Dwar and Ji Indur, silently still fuming, feeling the stabs of shame and humiliation, while the other two just stayed silent, meeting each other’s gaze behind his back.

After a few hours of silent traveling the bright green forest has changed to dark rocky terrain, an indication that they are getting closer to their destination. Minas Morgul was now only a few miles away. To the five years old child, this wasn’t a pleasant change. She liked the forest and the warm sunlight. She started to snuggle up to her father, sitting sideways on the saddle, sometimes burying her face into his dark clothes. The Witch King snapped out of his deep thoughts and looked down to see his daughter showing yet again some kind of confusing emotion. Mortals and their feelings… Not knowing what else to do to his trembling offspring, he let go of the reins with one hand and put it slowly on Jaina’s head, stroking her hair with his thumb. This somehow always worked before. This simple gesture was enough to calm her down when she was crying, cheer her up when she was upset, or raise her happiness at any time. Just like now. The child looked up at her father, blinked and smiled, her blue eyes shining with some kind of emotion again, then buried her face back into his clothing, this time not shivering anymore. He kept his hand on her head though, just to be sure.

“Do not fear, Child.” Came the cheerful voice of Adunaphel from next to them, riding closer to the father and daughter, looking ahead to inspect the road that was before them. “There is nothing to fear as long as we are around… This will be your new home.”

At the last part, the little girl peeked out from Er-Murazor’s robes, her big blue eyes watching her uncle, then smiled, even if it was a weak one.  
Home… This word alone brought peace to her mind and made her warm inside, thinking of the older castle back in the north, where the flowers bloomed, the scent of fresh rain was blown through the land by the gentle breeze, and birds chirped happily. She closed her eyes.

So, silence fell once again over the riders. No more sounds of nature disturbed the deadly aura that was present around them. The area became more and more familiar to them; they felt their own dark soul getting stronger. Their Lord is near… and he is waiting. They soon galloped in one perfect line, the Eight behind the Witch King, their horses kicked up the heavy dust and snorted, their red eyes glinting in the darkness. Just the mere silhouette of the dark riders would be enough to send a mortal fleeing away from them, swimming in terror. Something, they were very much aware of and…

“Are we there yet?”

All that could be heard was a variety of sighs coming from the Nazgul, just as the view of their dark stronghold came into sight, partway shielded by fog, standing firmly under the full moon.


	2. New Task: Babysitter?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **The Nazgul were not created to take care of children. But... desperate times call for desperate actions.**

2.: New task: Babysitter?

"It's a flower."  
"No…"  
"Yes it is…"  
"No it is not."  
"I know a flower when I see it!"  
"No... It is no flower… That's a flame."  
-Silence-  
"I still think it's a flower…"  
-sigh-

The day couldn't go worse for Uvatha. The Nazgul had been peacefully sitting in his dimly lit room, reading one of his favorite books about the rise of Sauron, when the Witch King knocked on his door with his daughter in tow, informing him that today he will have to watch her, while he goes and meets the Harad leaders. To say the least, the intellectual Nazgul was shocked at the request. Normally, it was Adunaphel who plays the 'babysitter', entertains her when their leader isn't around, but today even the assassin had to depart from Minas Morgul, just after the Witch King, to consult the pirates. And being the only Ringwraith in the stronghold now –aside from Hoarmurath- he is now pointed out to keep Jaina safe for today, or as long as one of the two comes back. No one even dares speak with the mage about watching her… Everyone knew he hated her with a passion and always had a slave or two in his chambers... doing things with them, what are not appropriate for a five years old child, according to Adunaphel. 

So here he sat now, in his chamber, leaned back in his seat with his book in front of him on his desk, trying to convince the princess, who was sat opposite of him, leaning on the desk, that on the page he was just reading the picture doesn't show a red flower, but flames that engulf Mount Doom. But the girl is persistent… He sighed and simply closed the book in front of her face loudly, and let it rest on his desk, wanting to end this brief argument. Maybe she was their leader's offspring, but he didnt consider her a worthy debate partner. She wasn't having any of that though, as her small fingers started to wander on the wooden furniture towards the book, then once they found it, she slowly slid it towards her, only to feel a sudden weight on her hand. The Nazgul simply pressed down on the object, not letting her pick it up, then enclosed the cover in his own metallic grip, pulled it away from her, then sat it in his lap. This book was his favorite, and knowing her, or children in general, he knew they had the tendency to rip, destroy or chew on things. He learned this when the girl successfully tossed some of his books out of the window because she found them boring, or when she almost caused a fire with one of his inventions… and once she even destroyed one of them by chewing on a sensitive part. From there on he was highly protective of everything that was in his poorly decorated room.

The princess pouted, narrowing her big blue eyes at Uvatha, who just crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat once more, holding his head high, as if challenging her to try and take it now. Even his aura changed, darkening the room slightly, choking anyone who had the terrible luck to be around with fear, but Jaina didnt seem to mind. She was used to such displays of power. So the girl continued glaring at him for a little while longer, then simply shrugged and huffed, then made her way to one of his shelves to look for another book that contained more pictures. That one was too boring anyway. The Nazgul watched her carefully, following her movements with his hooded head closely, tensing up slightly when she gripped a book too tight, or held it wrong. Those books were everything to him; all his knowledge came from those and some were written by him… However, he can't deny her entertainment. What else is there to do in his room, other than reading… or looking at pictures in her case? He didn't plan leaving his chambers for a day or two either, as he still needed to construct new armors and weapons for the troops, this alone will take him a day and a half, and he still needed to refresh his mind with meditation. The next few days surely will take most of his energy, and then now he has to look out for Jaina as well…

In the mean time, the little girl was sorting through the books, her small hands sometimes slipping on the bigger books' cover, dropping them on the ground, where she flipped them open and looked at the pretty pictures. These were mostly about orcs and trolls in armor, weapons, wargs, and a few pictures of castles and even about wraiths. She liked the one that resembled her father the most. The one with the crown. That must be surely him. Once done, she slid the book aside, leaving it on the floor, then picked another one that had a very neat decorated cover and put it on the ground to open it. Just as she did, a knock sounded on the door. She didn't pay any heed to it, and simply resumed looking at the drawings of –this time really- flowers. She smiled.

Uvatha on the other hand put his book on his chair, and hurried to answer the knock. To his surprise and annoyance, an orc general stood at the doorway, informing him that his assistance is requested by a southern army. Many of the catapults had been sabotaged, and need a skilled hand to fix them. The Nazgul had no other choice but to agree and aid the troop. Once the orc left, the Ringwraith walked over to his seat and sat down, leaning forward, supporting his weight on his elbow, and stared at Jaina. Now… what to do with the girl? If he took her with him, the Witch King would take his head. Even if he was already a wraith… Er-Murazor would find a way. With a heavy sigh he realized also that he can't leave her in his room alone, or let an orc watch her. Let's not even think about calling Hoarmurath for help. He sighed once more, and buried his invisible face into his hands in frustration. While he did not care for her safety, he cared for his own.

The princess didn't realize any of this conflict within her inventor uncle, but kept looking at the pictures in the books, now having two open at the same time, comparing the drawings of the dragons there, laying comfortably on the floor, swinging her legs slowly. She even started to hum a song her mother used to sing to her. She already forgot the lyrics, but the rhythm and the melody were still fresh in her mind.

The noise unnerved the Nazgul. Being a dead being, everything that was nice, pretty and beautiful was having the opposite effect on him. Like the gentle humming. He sighed once more, and opted to just take her with him, when he stopped in his tracks. He looked up sharply and tilted his head slightly to the side, as if listening for something. He chuckled, and then stood up, adjusting his clothing. His day was just saved. Uvatha turned to the little girl on the floor and cleared his throat, wanting to gain her attention, which he got after a second try.

"Let's go, I have an important matter to deal with." He simply informed her, thinking the detail surely won't interest her anyway. Not even waiting for a response, he turned towards the door and walked up to it slowly, grabbing a few tools he had in his room along the way.

Jaina just blinked, then smiled brightly, glad they leave the chamber finally, eager to have some fresh air and chase fireflies again. She stood swiftly, stumbling, almost tripping over her own feet, and ran towards the door to get out as fast as possible. She was about to pass the doorway, when she felt something grab the back of her light blue shirt, pulling her backwards. The princess looked back, only to be met with the dark hood of Uvatha. He cleared his throat once again, tapping his metal-covered foot on the stone floor, the sound echoing through the corridor. She just blinked, not sure what he wanted, but he eventually pointed her back towards his chamber, pushing her lightly inside, motioning towards the shelf. And indeed… Almost half of the books that were originally neatly organized were now scattered on the floor, some of them open, some thrown to the side, lying awkwardly. She grinned nervously, but with a sigh –knowing well that looking at her uncles nicely and cute won't change their mind- she set to work to put them back to their place. Once done, she nodded satisfied at her handywork, then skipped to the door, passing the Nazgul, she made her way down the corridor. The Ringwraith only sighed, shaking his head, looking back towards the shelf, knowing he will have to go through the books again and organize them once more.

She ran through the hallway giggling, stretching out her hands, not even letting Uvatha to catch up, who was trailing behind her, using a much slower pace, walking leisurely and placing the tools inside of his pockets.

"Come on Uvatha! Speed up!" The little girl called back, turning around to glance at her slow uncle, running backwards, then snickered and ran forward, laughing happily.

"I don't think so…" Came the emotionless reply from the Nazgul when he stopped in front of a door in the hall, then raised his voice so she can hear him from the distance that she put between them. "We are here!" He shouted, and knocked on the door lightly. Though, knocks were only a habit, they never need this 'announcing' of their presence. They can simply feel each other's aura… But then again… old habits never die.

By the time the confused Jaina made it back to him, the door creaked open slowly, revealing a clearly moody Dwar, who stood in the doorway and crossed his arms, not saying a word, but surely demanding explanation what his brethren was doing at his door with… that thing, just when he got back from his own mission. He still had much to do… Clean and sharpen his swords, meditate, then… then… he just wanted to be left alone.

Without giving him a chance to start thinking about it or guess the situation, the inventor cleared his throat and grabbed the princess by the shoulders, holding her in front of him firmly.

"The Witch King left to the south and Adunaphel to the west, and now I have to leave to repair some machinery at a troop. Jaina is under your care as long as either of us comes back." He said, speaking kind of fast, giving as little time for Dwar to understand what he was saying as possible, before it was too late. The warrior Nazgul stood motionless at the doorway, his form slightly tensed up, giving the impression he was trying to hold back his anger.

"Wha-?"

"Good luck."

"But wha-?"

"See you in a few days!" Uvatha finished fast, patting the girl's shoulders lightly, then turned and swiftly walked off, leaving the –now dumbfounded- Dwar behind with the Witch King's daughter standing in front of him. To be honest, he was glad he got free from the... degrading task of playing babysitter to the child. Next heir or not... noble or not… she was still a child, and a Nazgul was not created to take care of them. Though, there was still some kind of worry sweeping through his soul, thinking maybe leaving her with Dwar wasn't a good idea. The warrior was never a great fan of Er-Murazor, though he was loyal, just because of their Lord insisting they follow him, and only doesn't challenge him for power because the Witch King was stronger than him. The two have never seen eye to eye… and if he could, he wouldn't pass a chance to ruin their leader, or try and get rid of the heir. But then again, he surely wouldn't try. If the dark king was angered, he can become quite the problem for Dwar, and he surely will find a way to hurt the other Ringwraith despite their immunity to pain. So, Uvatha was sure he won't try anything. At least not without consequences… and their leader surely won't include him in the punishment... He didn't have any other choice, or a place to leave his daughter at…

The silhouette of the Nazgul didn't even vanish completely from sight, but Jaina, with a happy 'Weeeee' ran past her shocked uncle, right into his room, where she gasped at the sheer number of greatswords decorating the chamber, the bed, and now even the floor. She didn't know why, but swords always amazed her. Their form, how well some of her uncles could wield them… the movements, and how sharp they were… Maybe it was something she was born with? Even as a child she was drawn to them… staring at them speechless, with her eyes gleaming.

"What are you-?" Dwar started, shocked, and turned around, feeling her brush past him, and hurried inside as well, his hand clutching the door tightly. The little girl however didn't answer, but inched towards one of his swords on the floor. "Don't even-!" She picked it up by the handle and looked at it with wide eyes. It was heavy, and she started to sway on her feet, but tried to hold the weapon with all her might. "Put it down!" The warrior's voice thundered suddenly, very angrily, then slammed the door shut with one single strike, and started stomping up at her, his heavy armor clinging loudly.

The princess gasped at the sudden outburst, and dropped her prize back on the floor, backing up from her furious guardian, watching him with wide blue eyes. Of course, it wasn't that he never went up to her like he wanted to kill her, but today he was extremely moody, she concluded.

"Sit. Down." The Ringwraith said, pointing at the chair at the other end of the room, in a corner, just next to a window. Other than that, he didn't say anything, but huffed, and sat down on his own chair, not far from his desk, picked up the sword Jaina was just holding, put it across his lap and started sharpening it.

Hours passed… The chamber of the Nazgul was silent, safe for the sound of metal sliding along metal, as Dwar was still sharpening the last of his swords, the sparks flying everywhere, giving his dark armor and hood an ominous glow for a moment at each move. He didn't say anything for the past hour, but sat at the same position, moving just enough to put the sharpened weapons aside and picking a blunt new one, seemingly engulfed in his own world, not even acknowledging the little girl sitting in the chair in the other end of the room. She had been sitting in the same position as well for the past hour… whenever she tried to stand, her warrior uncle's hooded head would always turn towards her, glaring at her dangerously, as if daring her to stand up while he didn't give her permission… which would always make her sit back down and sigh in clear annoyance. Good thing that there was a window next to her, giving her a good view of the court below, busy with orcs and trolls preparing for something... maybe they will head out again. She didn't know, and was never told where they were going, but she did notice how the number of the returning troop would greatly decrease… She wondered what they were doing and where the others are at. She watched the busy streets for an hour now, leaning towards it in her seat, with her head resting on her folded arms. Her blue eyes were half-lidded and her face formed a pout, while her legs started to swing under her, making a slight creaking sound with the chair. But to her dismay, she had to even stop that, when Dwar's gaze met hers once more, stopping what he was doing, scolding her with just this simple gesture. Just great… Even Uvatha was more entertaining than him… He at least spoke to her, and didn't have this dark mood or silent and threatening attitude. He even had those nice books and toys she could play with… Of course he was very angry when she would break or tear one… but he never made her sit in one position for this long…

Her train of thoughts was broken when harsh knocking could be heard on the door, which made Dwar tense up, sigh, and after a short glance at her –practically telling her to stay on her butt- he stood slowly, putting his sword aside. He walked over to the door casually, opening it slowly, revealing Hoarmurath, who –the moment he saw his brother- started whispering to him in a very hushed and silent tone, so she couldn't tell what they were talking about. After a few minutes, her dark uncle stepped outside, but left the door slightly ajar, their murmuring seeped into the room, indicating the conversation was quite important and not for everyone's ears. Not that Jaina was interested in it… the second she realized she was 'alone' in the room, she started eyeing the beautiful sword that was put aside… The amazing carvings, the decorated grip… the power it emitted. She smiled and found herself on her feet, the chair creaked slightly when she shifted on it and she grimaced, glancing at the door cautiously. Fortunately, her uncle didn't seem to hear it or simply refused to acknowledge her presence around him, so she took a few steps away from it, and towards the weapon set against the chair Dwar was sitting on just a few minutes ago. The way was quite long –in her mind at least-, the princess would always peek at the door to see if he comes back. The closer she was to her prize, the more she would extend her small hands, eager to touch the smooth steel. She licked her lips once her fingers grasped the handle, and slowly, as silently as she could, she started lifting the sword, smiling brightly once the sunlight reflected from the blade, giving it a mysterious glow. She gasped and moved away from the chair with it in her grasp. Of course the weapon was quite large and heavy compared to her, but she was quite stubborn and determined, so maybe struggling a bit with it, but still carried the magnificent blade around, awed by it. Once she was standing in the middle of the room, she risked another peek to the door, but seeing her warrior uncle was still outside and still talking to her mage uncle, she grinned and started to swing it a bit, holding back the small giggles as she played with the greatsword. Soon, her swings became more bold, but unfortunately, she became tired by the sheer size and weight of her toy, her hands started to sweat as well, which caused quite the trouble. At a swing, the handle of the blade slipped from her hands, sending it flying through the air… straight towards… and out of the window. She grimaced and stayed in that position for a while, looking towards the window with a mix of shock and helplessness, then snapped out of it once the faint clang sounded from outside, indicating it landed not too gracefully somewhere. At this, her eyes widened, and without wasting time, she hurried back to her chair and sat down, mimicking her last position as best as she could, hoping her uncle did not hear anything… and wont find his weapon until she was in another Nazgul's care.

The first thing Dwar noticed when he closed the door was the tense feeling in the air... and the unmistakable smell of mischief. The little runt was never good at hiding her feelings or her soul from any of them, however, what she did was a mystery to him, and something told him he didn't even want to know. He sighed, shaking his head, then walked over to his chair to pick up his sword and continue sharpening it. But as he extended his metal-covered hand towards the handle, he found his fingers gripped nothing. He finally looked down to see his prized sword gone… At first, he didn't do anything, just stared at the empty spot, then his gaze slowly, but surely traveled to the little brat on the chair at the other end of the room… Would have if she was there…

His invisible eyes turned towards the door.

And there she was. Inching towards the exit of his chambers, with that usual sheepish expression on her face. Her big blue eyes very soon found his own and she smiled, but didn't say anything, instead still remained in the same position, frozen in place as he caught her going for the door. He didn't move either, but stared at her long and hard. "Where are you going?" His emotionless, if not a bit demanding voice sounded in the room, almost making her flinch.

"Nowhere…" She said curtly, now smiling at him with a wide grin, trying to hide her guilty expression. She moved this time, standing by the door, clasping her tiny hands behind her back, trying to look like she didn't know anything about what happened not a few minutes ago. This of course made all this quite obvious, making her warrior uncle sigh and stand up. She watched his every move, sporting an innocent expression.

"Where is my sword?" The question was expected of course, and Dwar didn't even think he needed to voice it. His accusing gaze should be enough to give her an idea about what he was truly missing, and who he thought had a hand in the disappearance of said item. But Jaina being half human, he thought she wasn't at all as intelligent to understand simple gestures.

"I don't know…" She answered with a very faint tone, now starting to shift in her stance, moving from one foot to another, squirming under his hard gaze, her already big eyes becoming even bigger and wider, giving him her most innocent expression she could muster. But Dwar was not one to be moved by such petty tricks.

The aura in the room changed to the worst. It became darker and even more tense than before, the warrior formed his hands into fists and took a step towards her.

At the first chance she got, the princess bolted towards the door and out of it, ran along the hall and turned the corners randomly. Her small feet pattered loudly and fast on the stone floor, her breathing was high pitched and her big blue eyes were even bigger. She finally turned another corner and stopped there, pressing herself against the wall, then slowly inched back towards it and peered around it, trying to catch her breath and gulped, swallowing down the need to breathe for a moment. Nothing. He didn't follow her. Not yet that is. Not that she was afraid of her big brute uncle, but she knew she did something wrong, even if it was an accident. Dwar will make no difference. She did once bend one of his thinner swords before, because she fell and it was the only thing she could hold herself up with… This ended with her crying and running from him for a whole day if not two, until her father came back. Though, he seemed to forget about it on the third day. Maybe she should hide for three days and come out when he forgot about it?

He never intended to follow her. Instead, his shoulders slumped as if a large weight was taken from him, and turned around, searching his room briefly, his thoughts going back to the time Hoarmurath talked to him. She couldn't have gone out… he was standing near it, nor could she have hidden it near the chair he was sitting on, also the corner and window she was sitting at was empty too. If he could, he would have blinked and slowly moved towards the bed that his room contained –of course for comfortable meditating, Nazgul don't need sleep- and after a quick scan of the room he bent down and looked under it. Empty. Nothing. Hmm…. He turned around and let his invisible gaze sweep the room once more for his prized sword, until it slowly but surely landed on the window. It was open. He never moved this quick in his whole life and death, but after not even a second he was peering out of it, looking for his item. There… It was on the roof still, but not on the same one his room was at… How she managed to throw it that far, he didn't know, and something told him he didn't even want to know. All he knew was that he will order a few orcs to get it for him, while he goes and snatches that annoying rat.

Not even a few minutes passed, and the dark Ringwraith was doing a patrol, or hunting in the long corridors, following the trail of the brat. He did not care about stalking, or quiet movements, he wanted her to hear his approach. He sensed her aura that she left behind, smelled her scent and listened to her loud heartbeat. She was afraid. This alone satisfied his mind, boosted his hunger for her soul, wanting to devour it, and show their king his failure in protecting his precious heir. He wanted nothing more, but to see his soul wavering at knowing he lost something he wanted to keep, and not even their Dark Lord can bring her back. But he wasnt a fool. The punishment and wrath of the Witch King would be far worse than the satisfaction he would gain from killing the rat. Er-Murazor took great care to show them his superior power regularly. He wasnt violent kind of leader, but made sure they get a small taste of his abilities.

His train of thoughts was interrupted when his keen senses picked up something out of place in the corridors. He tilted his dark hooded head to the side and stopped right in front of it. He bent down, his black as night armor clanging faintly, and reached out with one grey gauntleted hand to retrieve his prize. It was a book. Quite antique, with nice and expensive decorations. He turned it around in his grip, trying to determine what to do with it. If it was laying here outside in the hallways, it means it was dropped carelessly by someone. And this someone might be just the one he sought. He tapped the hard cover of the item with his armored fingers and sniffed the air audibly.

Jaina...

The little girl in question didnt move from her previous position. Her back was firmly held against the wall, while her big wide blue eyes peered around the corner, her tiny hands grasping her light blue shirt. She flinched involuntarily once she heard the heavy greaves of her warrior uncle thunder on the stone floor, sounding closer and closer by each determined step he took. Not a few seconds later, his tall and bulky shadow appeared in her line of sight, his pace was even, maybe a bit relaxed, but still carried the promise of great punishment in his every feature. She gasped, and put one of her hands to her mouth, backing away from the corner. It wasnt his appearance that scared her, but the realization about what item he was holding in his firm grasp. Quickly, she reached down and started searching for her prize in her shirt, but it was nowhere to be found. Her blue eyes widened and her mouth fell open...

Dwar has Uvatha's favourite book...

She managed to snatch the pretty book from her inventor uncle's seat when he talked to that mean-looking orc. To her luck and delight, he didnt notice. But her luck has run dry... She must have dropped it when she ran from Dwar's intimidating aura after she watched helplessly as his greatsword flew out the window. Her young mind reeled. What could possibly make him give the book back, without him doing something mean... Or saying something mean...

Said wraith could already feel, sense the exact spot where the brat was hiding at. He prepared himself for the silent punishment and display of his irritation. His armored hands clenched into fists, his shoulders rose slightly, and the closer he got, the bigger his steps became. He chose walking next to the wall, so he can catch a glimpse of her terrified form before she expects his full approach. But to say the least, he didnt expect what happened next...

Jaina, sporting the biggest eyes she has ever shown anyone, the saddest and most guilty expression she could manage, stepped out into his way, away from the corner and stood before him with her small hands clasped behind her back. She stood there in front of her mildly surprised uncle, before addressing him in a very faint tone. "I am sorry uncle Dwar. I promise it wont happen again." She lowered her gaze onto the floor, watching her feet, staying silent after that.

Her bodylanguage, her tone and her expression was so miserable, that it stopped the Ringwraith from acting for a few seconds. Did this spoiled rat just apologize to him? He tilted his hooded head to the side, not quite wanting to believe his senses. This did give his dark mind some kind of satisfaction, but he was sure this wont be enough to pull herself out from under the punishment. He was not a mortal, so try as she might, her fooling around will not faze him. Her stance and expression said nothing to him, he couldnt associate it with any emotion he still had stored away in his cursed mind. Even if she kneeled he wouldnt change his mind much. That would be the only gesture he understood as begging for his mercy.

"You..." He started, his fists clenching tighter at first, then pointed one armored finger at her, while the other still held the book in a crushing grip. "If I knew your father couldnt torture me in any way... you would have landed in the deepest hole within the Void the moment I caught sight of you..." His aura was defeating at this point. It swirled around him dangerously, giving him a deadly and more powerful look. The little girl in return shivered at the cold that suddenly enclosed her, and didnt dare look up at her furious uncle. While the sudden outbursts of aura and harsh words were a common sight she witnessed around her uncles, the knowledge of being guilty only increased her pangs of conscience. "But I am reduced to punish your mind instead..." He continued now raising the book he was holding and almost forgot about in her view. The increase in her heartrate, her sweating and her suddenly enlarging pupils told him the item was indeed hers. He already felt excitement within his dark mind as his other hand grasped the book as well, following her gaze, monitoring her feelings... her panic... "... You took something that was mine... and damaged it. Now... I take something that is yours..." He didnt even finish his sentence, but let his hands do their job. He ripped the book apart in one single try, digging the metallic claws of his gauntlet into the cover, relishing in her gasp of shock, and disappointment... Her book, now in two parts, soon landed on the floor in one heap, sounding a loud thud, which echoed through the corridors.

Jaina watched silently as the remains of the once pretty book was carelessly dropped to the floor. She blinked her bright azure eyes, mourning the loss of such an amazing toy. Really a shame... But... it wasnt hers. She will surely find new ones in Uvatha's shelves. She saw hundreds of books with vibrant bright covers, and sketches of dragons. She raised her eyes to her uncle, who was by now standing in front of her, his arms crossed before him, satisfied by her expression and the damage he has done.

"Uncle... I dont think..." She started, pointing towards the ripped book on the floor. But she was cut off by the glowering Nazgul, who thought she was trying to make excuses, and complain about the -to her mind- too harsh punishment. While she was lucky she only got this much from him...

"I think it was a mild punishment you got. Too soft if you ask me. But if you wish, I can double the damage..." He chuckled darkly, before stepping on the destroyed item on the floor, hearing a satisfying crunch from it.

"But the book..." She tried once more, pointing at the said item again.

"Silence, mortal!" The Ringwraith almost bellowed, taking a step towards her, his dark armor giving out a series of clangs. "Dont even dare giving me a lecture about what I can do, and what not. Compared to my sword, this puny book is nothing. Just a meaningless sorry excuse of a...!"

"Has anyone seen my book?" Came the faint, yet demanding voice of Uvatha as he rounded the corner, hearing the voice of the little girl, who more than likely snatched his favourite book before. He was already on his way to the given location, when his thoughts randomly wandered back to the time, when he sat down on his chair after speaking to the orc general. The book... It wasnt there. He also forgot a few key tools, so it was truly the best to turn around. His worry was valid when he found the tools, but his book was nowhere to be found. He knew where to look for it though. He wasnt surprised to find Dwar scolding Jaina because of something he didnt even want to know about... What made him stop in his tracks was the sight that greeted him...

His book... on the floor... ripped... dishonored... ruined... done for... disrespected... damaged beyond repair...

He fell silent instantly, and slowly, very slowly, his invisible gaze wandered from it, up the foot that dared steepping on it, right to the hood of his warrior brethren.

His revenge shall be remembered through the ages...

Let us say... it wasnt only Dwar's sword that earned a free-flight that day.


	3. A Day with Daddy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **When the boring days have an end and a long awaited visitor shows up in Minas Morgul.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that this chapter is written from the point of view of a little child. Children tend to think differently, make the world look better than it truly is and live in a perfectly happy world until faced with the truth when getting older.

3.: A Day with Daddy

Being the daughter of the Witch-King of Angmar was rather easy and exciting.

While she had sometimes a busy schedule, it paid all of since she was five but is taught to read, count and write like older children, so she started to understand some of the writings her Uncles made, and many of the pretty drawings finally made sense. There was also the talk already to teaching her how to handle some pointy weapons. The same pointy weapons her mom told her she cannot touch. Her young mind was confused. Plus she was rather spoiled. She was always safe with one of her uncles at her side, the orcs and trolls didn’t dare look at her wrongly, she had a room just for herself with her daddy, the best food she could ask for, she was treated fairly, her uncles were patient with her and most of all… she was never alone.

But all this good and positive traits were nothing, tiny compared to the worst that she was facing all the time in her life ever since she came here… which ate at her young mind and brought her bright blue eyes to shed tears…

He was never there…

And despite everything… she felt lonely…

Every day was the same... 

Wake up, go and have a bath, get dressed, have breakfast, then sit down and wait for one of her uncles to get her. Which would always end up to be Adunaphel, or on rare occasions Uvatha, then either spend the day with them, watch them work, or be dropped off after a while at a different Nazgul. Then in the evening, she would be brought back, bathe, eat dinner, play a bit with her toys and go to bed. 

Yes, exactly. She has toys. 

Ever since she can remember the world she had them. Her mother insisted she has something to play with while she developed. She managed to convince her father that this will help with her skills later on, develop her personality and aid her coordination which only was to her benefit. Right now, they are all resting in a chest at the foot of her bed. But not one. Her big stuffed warg plush was clutched tightly in her arms. It was a dark-brown color, with a lighter belly and muzzle, with two button eyes and a wide smile. There were some correcting stitches here and there, made by her mother to repair some damages done by her accidentally or by one of her angry uncles... She loved it above all else. Its scent still carried her mother's, the last thing she held before she vanished. 

One morning she was sleeping next to her, the next thing she knew when she woke up that she was alone, with her father sitting in his usual spot on his chair, watching her. He never told her where her mother went. Only that she will never come back...

But deep down, she still hoped he was wrong and one morning she will wake up to her gentle singing as usual, laugh as she tickles her and hugs her, telling her everything will be alright.  
Next to her she was never bored... Every morning... she would stay a bit longer in bed... and wait for her. Hope. 

Every morning.

She took a deep breath and nuzzled her toy, smiling, closing her big blue eyes.

"Don’t worry, Tefur." She started, addressing her toy lovingly, caressing its furry head gently with her small hand. "I am here for you. I will bring you back north..." She always wondered why they left that comfortable and pretty place... But once her mother was gone, her father sat her on his horse and they came here... He didn’t even tell her what they will do here.

Now her thoughts switched to her father once more...

He was always somewhere else, doing 'important things' as Adunaphel put it. Of course she understood, at least tried to, not like she can do anything against it. But her young mind wished he would visit her more... Or promise her he will come back soon every time he left... Easing her worry... her fear that he will not come back...

Every day she would sit tight, clutching her big warg plush, waiting for his return. 

She missed him dearly. Every time he visited, it would be special. The days wouldn’t be so boring anymore. She would sit with him, hugging him, listening to the few words he shared with her, smile and hug his hand when on those rare occasions he would reach out and put his hand on her head. She would follow him everywhere, not daring to lose him out of sight, in fear that he might vanish too...

Just like her mother.

But so far, every time she fell asleep and woke up, he was there... Every time he left, he returned. Every time she turned her back to him, he would still be standing there when she peeked.

So, why wasn’t her mother still there when she woke up?

She always pondered this... But as usual, no one would give her answers.

She sat on her chair at the desk -her father's desk- yawning once, stretching out her legs under it, slightly bored, not looking forward to today's long walk with her assassin uncle. Today they are supposed to inspect the orcs as they prepared for something, then they would visit the blacksmiths, a few more orcs, the warg pen, the guards at the southern towers, talk to the cute wolves... The usual routine. First, it was fun, as she would be able to see the stronghold, the people who worked there, the fluffy warg puppies, the pretty swords and maces... being sniffed at and nuzzled by the two-legged wolves. But after a few days, she found it too... monotonous. She wanted to do something else. Like... go outside of this gloomy castle and see the world beyond the sturdy walls. But her guardians didnt even want to hear about it...

She sighed and buried her face into the soft toy, nuzzling it, taking a deep breath to take in its familiar and loved scent, tightening her grip on it a bit and yawned. Hearing a clang from outside, she slumped her shoulders and stayed in this position for a bit, as if trying to gain some motivation to move. She took the noise as one of her uncles either stepping on something or lecturing an orc, which also meant that it was time to get up, put Tefur away and prepare for today's walk and studies. Maybe she will have some apples for lunch if she did well today!

But it never came to it...

Her azure eyes widened for a moment, and her grip on her toy loosened, causing it to slip from her small hands, and fall to the ground soundlessly, bouncing only once before stopping at her feet. She stood there, motionless, in the same position, her mouth falling open, staring at the closed door.

There was a brief vibration in the air...

A wavering of the very atmosphere, a breeze of terror... with a pinch of mystery. It started pulsating through the stronghold, eating away at every soul, forcing them to be rooted to the spot, shiver, being introduced to the world of real fear. Death itself plagued the fortress. Every being who had a soul, fled, clutching their head in desperation. But not the orcs... no dark creature dared to respond to such primal emotions.

And Jaina?

The little girl still stared at the door, but her mind was somewhere else. She blinked once, the action itself bringing forth a tear. It trickled down her cheeks. But it wasn’t one of fear...

No...

It was of joy.

In the next moment, she let out a high-pitched scream and launched herself at the door, her plush toy forgotten on the ground. Her shaky hands fumbled with the handle for a while, the cursed metal object sliding from her grip all the while. Finally, she managed to open the door, and ran straight out of it. The heavy-armored orc guards couldn’t even catch her, just met each other's gazes, then after realizing just what happened, they gave chase. Although, it was short, as the suddenly very fleet princess slipped from their line of sight. 

They didnt waste time, but alerted the nearest guards to aid their search. She couldn’t have gone too far...

The little girl basically flew down the stairs, taking two steps at a time, bumping into orcs and goblins left and right, not even bothering to look around.

She had only one thing in mind...

To reach the gates...

She frowned and stopped for a few seconds to look behind her, her blue eyes widening as she saw the orc guards at the steps of the long stairs, staring at her, calling her name. She gasped and put a hand to her mouth, backing away, almost stumbling. Eventually, she turned back around and let her small legs carry her into the crowd of an orc troop... Much to the dismay of the guards.

Not even five seconds later, the little girl looked back once more to make sure she gained distance, but was suddenly forced to a stop and fell backwards as she crashed against someone. She groaned and shook her head a little, putting her hands to her forehead, and looked up.

A troll, at least five times her size stared back at her, baring his black-yellow teeth, huffing at her, narrowing his sharp yellow eyes. It leaned in just a bit, and took a deep breath, opening his mouth as if wanting to speak to her, but then looked up, the shouts of the guards catching his attention.

Jaina used her chance.

She quickly scrambled to her feet, almost falling over first, feeling the sudden pain at her leg and ribs from running into this pack of muscle, and falling on the hard floor.

Her feet carried her deeper into the crowd, sometimes bumping into orcs or brushing past them just barely, causing some of them to frown and look down, wondering what that was. But none could catch a glimpse of the princess.

She didn’t even know where she was going, only following her instinct which led her according to the dark aura, guiding her every movement, being drawn in like a bee worker to her queen.

She didn’t need her eyes even if those teary blue orbs were wide open, her small hands were reaching forward to try and push against bodies that almost crashed against her as the orcs marched forward, coming right from the gates. Where she was aiming to go. She couldn’t feel her fleet legs anymore either, she didn’t know if they hurt or if she lost any feeling to them, but she didn’t care. Her mind was on something else… Soon… the crowd started to thin… a faint light came into her view as she ran…. The end of the troop.

She didn’t even stop when she finally broke free from the orcs, even when the sudden light blinded her. She closed her eyes instead and ran forward, changing directions just barely, screaming in a high-pitched tone, feeling her throat being choked by a developing lump.

Then she reached her goal.

Her small hands shakily clutched the armored leg of her prize, crashing into it with a loud cry of joy, and pure tears streamed down her red cheeks in steady waves as she closed her blue eyes. The princess pushed her wet face against the metallic armor, hugging the form tightly where she could reach it, refusing to let it go. Not like anyone would want her to. She knew it. She knew it deep down. He was just as overjoyed to see her again, she was sure… he is just too shy to show it. Soon, she blinked, fluttering her eyes open, feeling them slightly swollen with tears and sobbed loudly a few times before slowly raising her glistening eyes upwards towards the dark hood that faced her from above. Her smile, as joyful and bright as the clear sun above the clouds was met with expressionless darkness. But she knew he was smiling too.

“Daddy!” She shouted overjoyed with a surprisingly clear voice despite the lump in her throat which still seemed to choke her every moment. Her hands refused to loosen their grip on the appendage she managed to get a hold of. One couldn’t describe just how any emotions swam in her wide blue orbs, all of them swirling wildly, easily readable even for the blind. However all these obvious signs and feelings went unanswered and unnoticed by the wraith whose leg she trapped in her tight and shaky grip.

Her answer was silence.

The Witch-king of Angmar simply watched her from above, wordlessly, his dark hooded invisible expression hidden from view, leaving everyone wondering how he met his daughter’s over-spilling display of affection. Did he indeed appreciate her worry, does he answer to her joy? Did he truly miss her as well or did he feel the same excitement to see her again? Jaina knew he did. He always did and knew he will always return her joy one way or another, proving to her just how much she meant to him. She almost squealed and closed her eyes tightly, standing on her toes when he did what she hoped he would. The king reached down, his armored hand soon brushed against her long blonde hair, making her smile and sigh in contentment, pushing her head into his hand. Even this wordless small sign of care meant to her as much as if her mother would hug her tightly after a long week of being apart. This was so rare and so much sought after, her father being so stoic, hiding his emotions from the outer world, her young mind concluded. But she knew he felt them. She saw the tiny signs, she knew what she had to look for. And she will never tell anyone these secrets.

.xXx.

The door to the Witch-king’s quarters burst open, the little girl running right in with a joyful squeal, laughing and jumping, unable to contain her happiness, her excitement and pure bliss, then turned to run deeper into the room before stopping in her tracks and turned on her heels, letting her small legs carry her back to the door, closing it before with the same giggles ran up to the same desk she sat at not half an hour ago, quickly reaching down to her beloved plush friend, hugging it tightly with both hands, nuzzling his muzzle.

“Guess who came home, Tefur!” She asked it as if it was alive with a gleaming smile. She started jumping around and twirled with the warg plush in her hands before stopping suddenly and pulled away from her favorite toy, her tone and expression suddenly changing to a playful seriousness with an almost scolding hint. “But you know we have to behave and stay silent, daddy doesn’t like too much noise, so shhhh…” She gestured with her index finger against her toy’s stitched mouth, and in the next moment she jumped up onto the chair she was sitting on, clutching Tefur in her hands, directing her wide and expecting gaze to the door, like waiting for a miracle that she knew will happen very soon.

And indeed.

The sound of echoing metallic footsteps could be heard getting louder each second as the figure walked along the hall, the awaited shadow soon stopped in front of the door, only hesitating for a moment before the handle was turned and the wooden object slid open, revealing the defeating blackness which was even darker than a moonless night. Many would run at his mere presence, their mouth would open in a silent scream as the dark aura choked them, claiming their soul in the terror of the night. But Jaina felt none of these. The prickling at her skin was merely a side-effect, her human instinct trying to make itself known…. But her other half and her childish mind proved to be victorious. The moment Er-Murazor entered the room she was on her feet. Giggling, though as silently as she could, she ran up to him and with a bright smile she reached out, grasping his dark cloak in her still shaking hands, clutching it to her chest, her bright happy blue eyes glancing up at him that whole time. She knew what will come, what he always did when arriving, so did not hinder her daddy from doing so. Instead, she walked after him when he moved, still holding onto the piece of fabric she was clutching and waited for her father to sit on the bed, where he folded his metal-covered legs in the typical lotus position, intending to meditate, clear his mind and rest for a few hours before going on with his duties as Lord of Minas Morgul. Three hours. Exactly three hours would he do this, the little girl remembered clearly, having memorized it clearly. Of course by now he knew to stay alert just a little longer, until his daughter climbed on the bed as well and nestled into his lap with the warg toy in her hands. The moment he felt her close her eyes and sigh in contentment, the dark king drifted off deeper into his cursed soul, seeking that little peace he could return to from the madness of the real world, while little Jaina savored the care and warmth of her silent father.

.xXx.

She knew today is going to be different the split second she sensed his presence this morning. And according to that, her daily routine was also altered so she can spend the little time she had with her father. She was the happiest girl on Middle-Earth in these days, content to sit around for hours just so she can be with him, while usually she couldn’t sit tight for five minutes, much to the dismay of her Uncles. However for her daddy? She would not say a word the whole day! She would put away her toys without question if he wished so. But he never did. Just now she is proving this to the Witch-king as she sat at his desk again in his lap, comfortably leaned against his chest as he bent over a little, writing a letter to someone important, she was sure. She couldn’t help but just like usually, she watched with interest how he wrote each letter, how he drew each stroke with his black quill like doing an art-piece… Slowly, flawlessly, his hand moving at each strike as if in a dance, following the path laid out before it in graceful motions. He never had to write a letter or note two times, he never made a mistake she noticed, his hand never became shaky like hers would, and could tirelessly write pages if he desired or had to. But this is also why she knew to stay silent, and sit almost completely motionlessly in his lap, so she doesn’t push him. It somehow gave her the feeling of contributing to his work, and she knew he trusted her completely. This didn’t mean it wasn’t hard for someone her age to keep herself entertained… Her warg plush, Tefur lay on the bed where she left him a few hours ago, all she had in her hands was a part of his father’s dark robes, which she hugged, knowing as long as she had a part of him in her grasp, he would not disappear… Not without her knowing. Her half-lidded blue eyes slowly turned towards her favorite toy, eyeing it longingly, almost maybe slightly regretting she chose to leave him behind, but she was reminded when her father moved that she had something far more precious to cuddle, so going against her young innocent mind, she simply stayed silent and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and relaxed in her daddy’s lap.

.xXx.

Not a few hours later her motionless sitting had an end and now they started walking along the halls and streets of the stronghold in a patrol. It wasn’t easy to follow her much taller father, because for every step he took, she needed to do three, her small legs however stubbornly carried her, not leaving her daddy out of her sight, her blue gaze always finding his form every second just to be sure. She was walking beside him, trying to match his speed which he gradually decreased, having noticed her struggle even when she tried to make her daddy proud and not show it. She still clutched a part of the fabric that covered the wraith in her hands, hugging it to her chest as she followed him silently, only giggling sometimes when she noticed something interesting on their journey or funny. Of course she knew what he liked. He liked silence, so did her best to tone down her games.

Their patrol ended abruptly when the king stopped almost causing her to bump into his leg and inspected a raid troop of orcs and warg riders, who were just now prepared and instructed by Dwar and Adunaphel, shouting at them fiercely and informing them about their tasks. She understood little because of the distance that was between them, but as it seemed the troop understood their duty and stood at attention, puffing out their chest in a salute, then turned their head towards her dark and proud father, bowing their head in his direction. She couldn’t help but flash a wide smile at this, always enjoying these signs of respect. It was after all rare she got them and while she knew it was meant to her father, who is to blame her young mind in imagining this as directed to her. The dark creatures didn’t mind her presence, much less when her daddy was with her, always giving her the appropriate respect as a princess, and never was she threatened by any of them. They didn’t dare to harm her, and she didn’t know why. Maybe her dad promised them good food in return? She wasn’t sure, it seemed almost natural, but there was this nagging feeling that these orcs were a little more than mean and smelly.

.xXx.

“No! I don’t want to!” Came the squeal from the little girl as she ran into the bedroom, her missed warg plush now clutched tightly in her arm, sporting a pout and turning around, facing the door to the bathroom from the other side of the room, having the bed between her and her doom. They have arrived back in their quarters a little while ago after the patrol, army inspection, the visit to the training grounds and the orc breeding chambers, her father having gone to do a few more things while she was given to her assassin uncle, Adunaphel to take care of her while he was gone. It was night time as the wraith announced, and if it is night time… Ugh… No! She didn’t want to! She was still wide awake and no way will she be dragged in there again! Her defiant bright blue gaze still stared at the entrance to the door of hell, holding Tefur close as if the toy gave her an even greater protection. And as she expected, soon the shadow of the Nazgul came into her view from the bathroom, stopping in the doorway, pointing back inside as he faced her, his tone going strict.

“But the sun has gone down, I can sense that. So time to get ready for bed. But first...” The wraith paused, stepping closer slightly, away from the door, his dark shadow ominously towering over her in the scarce light of the room, holding out his silver armored hands, which contained a light-blue towel. “… you need to get clean.”

“No!” The little girl shouted as if threatened with death and backed away, stumbling backwards before bolting to the side, wanting to slide under the table where she would be harder to reach for the larger Nazgul. But no such luck. The wraith had quicker reflexes and sensed her desired direction before she even made a move, so the moment she ran away, he reached out with both hands, dropping the fabric he was holding and managed to get a hold of her legs before she could completely vanish under the desk, hauling her back out while she screamed as if about to get killed, trying to get a good hold of the wooden object, but in the end ended up being held upside down in the air by her ankles, facing the dark creature’s chest, holding her warg plush still in a tight grip, giving the ringwraith a pout.

“Your father surely wont be pleased if you are still not bathed by the time he comes back… Do you want him displeased, Child?” Her guardian asked in a scolding yet playful tone, gently lowering her to the ground again, loosening his grip on her ankles to let her stand, unleashing his last and most powerful weapon at her, which caused the princess to gasp, put a hand to her mouth in surprise, her azure eyes widening. Of course she didn’t want that! If he truly wanted her clean by the time he came back, then she will get clean by the time he came back. Squealing and giggling, Jaina quickly placed Tefur on the bed before running inside the bathroom, her small feet pattering on the stone floor. The Nazgul in return just sighed, slumping his shoulders in a clear sign of relief before bending down to retrieve the towel he dropped in favor of catching the little girl and walked in after her, only stopping briefly when he heard her shout about how difficult it was to get out of her shirt and now her long blond hair was tangled in it. This will be a long night…

-an hour later-

A large splash of water, a loud giggle and a string of curses in Black Speech later the door to the bathroom burst open and the still wet princess ran right out of it with a playful laugh, squealing when she looked back and saw Adunaphel exit right after her with the towel in his armored grip. While the Nazgul tried to catch the little girl desperately to dry her off and get her into her sleepwear, Jaina on the other hand saw it as a game and dodged her uncle with loud giggles, her wet footprints decorating the stone floor and the carpet. Of course, the assassin saw it as everything else than a game. He was beginning to get annoyed by her antics, his cursed mind not letting him see logic or that children normally behave the way she was. He only had as much experience with children what he had by taking care of her, so it was lacking majorly. Still… considering his brothers… he had the most experience, so he was always the one pointed out to do such tasks like bathing her, putting her to bed, look out for her and provide entertainment. This didn’t mean he enjoyed it of course.

“You can’t catch me! You can’t catch me!” She sang with a giggle as she repeatedly got away from her uncle who was still having trouble keeping his footing because of the water she splashed out and got onto his metallic boots… making them slippery, but thanks to the sharp edges he didn’t fall. The little girl in the end twirled away from him and ran towards the desk where her returned father sat, once more writing a letter about something. Being in a playful mood, she didn’t stop but bumped into him, hugging his leg and she turned, sticking her tongue out to her slightly irritated uncle, knowing he will not attempt any further. 

The Witch-King of Angmar of course knew to lift his quill the moment he sensed her footsteps getting closer to him with a speed that she didn’t seem to slow, saving his writing from a large inkblot and a strike he never wanted to do. As soon as she latched onto his boot, he raised his invisible and expressionless gaze to the assassin, who stopped in his tracks at the sight, still holding the towel in both hands, catching the small sign his Lord gave him with just this single gesture and the tiniest change in his aura. Slowly, the terrifying wraith put his quill down carefully, then bent to the side and reached down, grasping his still laughing offspring with one hand, lifting her slowly but surely from her position at his boot to his chest instead, which Jaina eagerly hugged, even if her small hands didn’t completely reach around his strong torso. She closed her eyes and sighed in contentment, nuzzling the fabric that covered her daddy, calming down in just these few moments, savoring the affection of her father, even if it was unintended.

“Do as your uncle tells you.” Sounded the smooth, emotionless half-whispering voice of the dark king as he lifted his daughter, his gaze soon meeting the assassin’s in a silent approval. The little girl only nodded, tightening her grip on his clothes, feeling that she wasn’t yet ready to let go, but had to once she felt the soft fabric of the towel engulf her form, and was soon taken from her father. While her grip relaxed, she still held out her small hands towards him, but did not struggle. He told her not to… So she complied.

Soon enough she was laying in the bed, all tucked in with Tefur in her arms, now alone with the king, facing his sitting and reading position from where she lay, watching him with interest and small hint of fear. No.. her fear wasn’t inducted by his dark aura or his terrifying form. She still didn’t forget her mother and every time he was there… it came right back. Before she closed her eyes she was still there, hugging her and singing a lullaby… then when she opened her eyes she was alone…cold… confused… The silence was defeating. The only reason why she never cried was her father… who –just like right now- was sitting in their room, reassuring her of his eternal strong presence. But still… She feared if she closed her eyes… he would also be gone…. Forever. Even after so much time a child’s mind can herd its thoughts towards the worst in the most innocent situations… She felt her eyes starting to drop, her dreams awaited her, but she blinked the tiredness away quickly, not daring to fall asleep just yet. Just one more minute… Just one more… and she can be sure he isn’t going to leave her overnight. She kept chanting this while she fought, her tired blue eyes dropping more and more the more she blinked.

“Sleep.” The voice of the king suddenly shook her form and blinked, her azure gaze clearing for a second and focused on his hood, watching as he slowly lifted it and faced her for a moment. This alone brought her back to reality. He was there. In real. He was sitting at his desk like usual, staring at her from within his dark hood, speaking to her. Just like every time. And just like every time he would be sitting there when she closed her eyes… and just like every time he would be there when she opened them, waiting for her to wake…. So he can take her along… or say his goodbye wordlessly before he left. But each time he left… Just like now… he always came back. And he always will. Her daddy is strong and fearless. He loved her, she knew it, felt it in her heart and would never leave her like that. He never would. With these thoughts she closed her blue eyes and opened her mouth to yawn, stretching, then curled up, hugging her plush toy as she turned to her side with a sigh of contentment, letting her dreams take over her mind, taking away her worries and fears, taking her to her mother. Even now… she could hear the lullaby she used to sing, faintly in the distance.


End file.
